


Dandelion In The Spring

by phillipisabean



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-13 22:59:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16481372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phillipisabean/pseuds/phillipisabean
Summary: Post-Mockingjay, Peeta's return to District 12 but twisted a little bit at the start :) This was literally just written off the top of my head at 1am.





	Dandelion In The Spring

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my friends, if you have chosen to read this fanfiction (which I'll be very surprised if you have due to the lack of summary sorry I'm bad at them) Just wanted to let you know grammatical and spelling errors may occur, this was just copy and pasted off my notes in my iPod, I don't really want it to be a serious thing either, just a sort of "this is what I write about when I'm feeling empty in the middle of the night" thing hehe x

I stand there on the wilting grass, in front of me lies the cobblestone grave with the words 'Primrose Everdeen' carved into it. The two words that sends pains like a knife plunged into my heart all over my body. She was too young. Too gentle. I close my eyes and am greeted by the smell of the bombs. The fire. The terror. The innocent deaths. It all flashes before my eyes, the blood curdling evil grin of Snow, Finnick being ripped apart by sewer mutts. Peeta. My boy with the bread, thrashing and screaming, those ocean blue eyes I loved so dearly overtaken by black. My knees buckle under the weight of my pain and I simply lie there shaking. Mourning my dead sister. After all everything I did was for her. For Prim. Why aren't I dead too? I should've just taken that damned nightlock in the first games. Why me? I never asked to be the mockingjay, I never asked for this loss. This emptiness. I was just a 16 year old girl from the Seam, trying to keep her family away from starvation.  
It's been a month. A month since I lost her, today's been too much. Nightmares haunting me all through last night, leaving me screaming and pulling the sheets with my clenched fists. Its worse without Peeta here. He's still recovering in District 13 apparently, trying to keep his own demons away too, hijacked memories that plague him with a taste to kill. I weakly congratulate Snow in my head for fucking with the ones I love dearest so much to the point where I can bearly cope with it anymore.  
I take a large gulp of air and manage to force my eyes open, above me the sky is vivid with colours. A sunset. I force my lips into a soft smile for the first time in a while, my mind swarming with memories from the victory tour.  
"Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset"  
It hits me. Like a slap in the face. Peeta is my hope. My dandelion in the spring. I've underestimated how much I need him. And how much he needs me. Prim's words back in District 13 ring in my ear "I don't think you know how important you are to him" A silent tear rolls down my cheek. She knew all along. I stand up, my knees trembling, I grab my bow, stroking my fingers along the smooth wood and whisper under my breath "Thank you Prim."  
A warm air hits my face as I enter Victors Village, I let out a small humourless laugh at the thought this is the only piece of me not destroyed by the Capitol. I stop suddenly at the sight of a figure bent over by the grass planting something. I know by the mess of golden waves on top his head who it is. He's here. My boy with the bread.  
"Peeta..." it rolls off my tongue a desperate whisper. He turns around at his name, his crystal clear blue eyes gazing directly into mine.  
"Hey." it's simple but it's all I need right now.  
"You came home."  
"I found these by the edge of the forest. It's primrose." I now realise that the flower he's clutching is the one my dear sister was named after, the bright yellow flower my father was particularly fond of. I know what I'm about to do is a risk but something can't stop me from stepping forwards and collapsing into his arms, he seems startled but eventually relaxes and wraps his around me and I nuzzle my head on his shoulder, it's comfort. It's safety. It's home. "I'm so sorry katniss" he murmers against my skin, I feel his hot breaths against my neck and let out a sigh of relief. He's here. I don't know how much of him is here, but he's here.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is allowed! I am open to any ways I can improve as long as it's not expressed rudely, again thank you so much for reading this absoloute mess tbh


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